Boston (sort of a rondelet)

There are no words
for fear, for gut-deep grief

There are no words
to give us much relief
from action of the thief

There are no words

© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

The irony of having at least some words for what happened yesterday does not escape me. But Imaginary Garden With Real Toads asked for a Roundel or Rondelet. Of course, I looked back and the prompt and realized my syllable count is not right, but I think it IS uniform. A poem with a repeated refrain, and you know what? To hell with the rest of the form!

THANK YOU, Toads, for giving me an avenue for words to express my grief. As for the “thief,” I don’t want him/her/them put to death. Jail for a lifetime to ponder this tragedy is much worse punishment.

With many prayers for all, including the perpetrator/s – that those who did this awful thing own up and confess to it, and that we may begin to understand why, because I don’t get it at all. Peace, Amy